


Lucky Underwear

by mitsuuu



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AMAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Blow Jobs, Canon Non-Binary Character, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Smut, Horny Mirage | Elliott Witt, Making Out, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Smut, Underwear, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsuuu/pseuds/mitsuuu
Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve! Elliott invites Bloodhound over to ring in the New Year with him, silly traditions and all. However, there is one tradition Elliott is embarrassed to tell them about. His lucky underwear. Bloodhound eventually finds out.
Relationships: Bloodhound & Mirage | Elliott Witt, Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	1. Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> I will start off by saying this is not my first fanfiction, but it is my first Apex fanfiction, so go easy on me! I love Apex Legends. I love Bloodhound. I love Mirage. Miragehound is my favorite. I had this idea rolling around my head for the past couple of weeks. I am planning on publishing this in two chapters! Please enjoy, kudos, and comment. <3

The champagne bottle popped, spitting its cork across the room. Elliott gleamed, watching tiny bottles leap and fizz as he poured Bloodhound a glass. The hunter watched him with a warm smile. Tonight, on New Year’s Eve, they had ditched their usual ensemble, electing instead to wear a comfortable pair of sweatpants and loose-fitting top. The trickster wore something similar, though his top was fitted, of course, to show off his body. Elliott couldn’t have dreamed of spending New Year’s Eve any other way. The two of them had declined attending a formal celebration hosted by the Syndicate, choosing to spend the evening together in the privacy of Elliott’s apartment.

“Cheers,” he flashed a handsome smile, lightly clinking their glasses together.

“Cheers,” Bloodhound echoed. “May the Allfather bless us with an abundant New Year.”

Together, they took a small sip of champagne. Dark eyes watched Bloodhound savor the beverage. They did not drink as often as he did. He knew the hunter would have preferred a hot cup of the strongest, richest black tea he could find, but Elliott had explained to them that champagne was traditional on New Year’s Eve. Bloodhound made an approving hum at the taste of the alcohol. They did not mind it, nor did they mind the intimate celebration at the trickster’s apartment.

To their surprise, he had made an effort to tidy up the place. The rooms appeared much larger without heaps of soiled clothing, empty beverage bottles, and tinkered widgets cluttering the floor. He had even added touches Bloodhound would especially appreciate – nature-scented candles, potted plants. It felt cozy. Quietly, in the background, the Outlands’ New Year’s Eve Celebration played on the television. It was the same as any other year – live performances, Legend cameos, and cringe-worthy interviews. But, being together, it felt special.

“Thank you for the invitation,” they murmured.

“Hey, don’t mention it, Hound. Wouldn’t want you to be alone on New Year’s Eve. I’d rather be here with you than at that party. It’s a _drag_. Personally, drinking and schmoozing with sponsors doesn’t really say ‘Happy New Year’ to me.”

The hunter tilted their head. “Schmooze?”

Elliott chuckled. “Chit chat. Network. Shoot the shit.”

“Ah,” they noted. “Not once have I attended the celebration. For me, the final day of the year has always been one of reflection and meditation. I must take time to thank the Gods for bestowing me with good health and fortune.”

Elliott nudged his elbow against their side. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, can I take a raincheck on that? We can thank the ‘Allfather’ later. Tonight, you and I are celebrating New Year’s Eve _à la_ Witt.” He gestured for them to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen. “First order of business? Food. C’mon, it’s ready.”

Following him, Bloodhound glanced over at a clock. “It is nearly half-past ten o’clock. I do not usually eat late in the evening.”

“I knooow, but it’s a _tradition_ , Houndy,” the trickster whined, grinning. He paused just before entering the kitchen, planting a sweet kiss on their cheek. “Make an exception for me? You can’t say no this face. Don’t even try it.”

Bloodhound made a face. “I could, though tonight I am feeling gracious.”

Upon entering the kitchen, the hunter recognized the aroma. It was the usual Elliott Witt specialty – pork chops. The smell reminded them of one of the first times they visited his apartment. Elliott had been eager to impress them, preparing a dinner of pork chops paired with a bottle of their favorite red wine. Bloodhound recalled fondly the memory of quiet conversation in dim lighting. They had talked for hours about everything – the Games, their lives before the Games, their wishes and aspirations for the future. To this day, Bloodhound was unsure if the bottle of wine had convinced them to kiss him that night, or if Elliott’s charm was just that intoxicating.

The sound of a spatula scraping against a pan snapped them from their thoughts. Elliott started to fix the plates. Bloodhound took another sip of their champagne as they moved to stand beside him.

“I do not understand. You prepare this dish often. How can it be tradition?”

“I don’t make it that often! Maybe a couple times a month?”

“Week,” they corrected.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he grinned. “Either way, I made ‘em with black-eyed peas and sautéed greens this time. The peas are supposed to symbolize coins. And the greens? Money. Even the pork is supposed to bring good luck. After we eat this, we’re set to have one hell of a year.”

Bloodhound raised an eyebrow. “This is quite superstitious.”

“Ehh…part superstition, part tradition. My mom would make this for my brothers and I every year.” He made a playful face at them. “I thought you’d be into a little superstition, Hound, with all of your talk about the ‘Gods’ and the ‘Allfather.’”

“That is not superstition,” they corrected him.

Elliott blinked.

They continued. “It is also tradition to eat this meal on New Year’s Eve?”

“Usually on New Year’s Day, but I eat it on both days. Y’know, to maximize my good luck and all that.”

With both of their plates fixed, he took a few steps over toward a dining nook. The dining table stood round and tall, complete with decorations to mark the occasion. Last minute, he had purchased black napkins with the upcoming year stenciled in gold foil. Gold, plastic utensils sat on top of the napkins, surrounded by a tasteful sprinkle of gold, star-shaped confetti. Remembering the hunter’s fondness for candles, he had lit two, one on either side of a plant they had gifted him for the recent holiday.

He set their plate down and pulled out their chair, giving the seat a pat. Bloodhound sat and Elliott eased them forward. Before the man could step away, the hunter lifted up to place a small kiss on his lips. Their eyes peered deep into his. “Thank you, Elliott. You have spoiled me this evening.”

The trickster shook his head, moving to take a seat across from them. “Nonsense! You deserve it, babe.” He clapped his hands together and smiled. “ _Bon appetit_! Eat up.”

With a smile still on their lips, Bloodhound took their fork and knife in hand. Cutting away a piece of their pork chop, they lifted it to their mouth with a pleased hum. Elliott watched them with a wide smile as he did the same. Normally a paced eater, the hunter ate with enthusiasm. In the soft candlelight, their pale-grey eyes appeared warmer. Their skin had grown rosier, likely due to the glasses of wine they had consumed before the champagne was popped. Their long, crimson hair had been fixed in a loose braid, tied at the ends, and draped over one shoulder. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare, but Bloodhound was a beauty he could admire all day long. 

They finished over half of their plate before he did. They paused, dapping their lips with a napkin.

The trickster laughed through his nose. “Adorable.”

Bloodhound swallowed, chasing another bite with a sip of champagne. “Hm?”

He gestured at them with his fork. “You. You are so _adorable_. I don’t think I’ve seen you eat that fast before.”

Flushing, the hunter quickly lowered their utensils to their plate and reclined. “Forgive me. My manners have escaped me.”

“No, no. Nothing to be sorry about. It’s cute. Just means you really like it. I guess this means Chef Witt is going to have to cook for you more often, huh?” he winked.

Bloodhound felt their cheeks grow warmer. Elliott had an infectious charm that made their heart flutter. “Yes,” they nodded. “I would like that.” They proceeded to finish their meal, mindful to maintain etiquette. A moment of silence elapsed as they chewed. “Tell me, what other traditions do you observe?”

Elliott nearly choked.

There _was_ another tradition, albeit embarrassing. It was silly, something he had kept to himself to avoid awkward conversations like this. As a young man, he learned about the “lucky underwear” tradition. To some, the color of your underwear on New Year’s Eve would influence the upcoming year. Yellow for good fortune and prosperity. Green for luck. Blue for health. White for peace. Tonight, he wore red briefs. Red promised romance and passion. He not only hoped for much this evening, but for the upcoming year as well. His relationship with Bloodhound had only flourished over the past few months. He saw a future with them, and that was brave for him – a notorious playboy – to admit.

Several moments of silence had elapsed. Bloodhound tapped their fork lightly on their plate to get his attention. “Elliott?”

He flinched.

_Should I tell them? I can’t tell them. It’s embarrassing. Lucky fuckin’ underwear? Grow up, Witt!_

He didn’t know what else to do besides burst into a nervous laugh. “H-Huh? What’d you say, Houndy? Oh, traditions? N-No, not really! No other traditions here! What makes you think there’re more traditions?!”

Bloodhound watched him, eyes narrowed. “I do not. Until now. You are behaving strangely.”

“Strange? Who’s strange?! I’m not strange!”

“ _Elliott_ ,” their voice lowered.

He bit his lip. “Wh-What…?!”

“If it is embarrassing, I assure you I am impartial. You have shared much worse with me.”

“I’m _tellin’_ you, Hound, th-there’s nothing else! That was it! The champagne, the dinner…I-I don’t know what you’re getting at!” he claimed, gesturing with his fork. The utensil slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor. He turned his head to look at it before glancing back at the hunter whose grey eyes were still focused on him.

“Whoops.” Another nervous laugh. “Look, I’m getting worked up.”

Bloodhound pressed their back to the chair, lifting their drink to their lips. They sighed softly through their nose, watching him through their champagne glass. He was clearly lying. They were puzzled. What could possibly embarrass him to the point of acting skittish? Wrapping an arm loosely around their waist, they drummed their fingers against their side, pondering. Before the evening was over, they _would_ discover his secret.

And then, they saw it.

Elliott had lowered himself to his hands and knees, picking up bits of food that had flung from the fork when he dropped it. As he leaned forward, his shirt lifted, revealing a hint of bright red peeking above the waistband of his sweatpants. Bloodhound was sharp. Never before had they seen the trickster wear those. Elliott was the type of man who cycled through the same few pairs of briefs until he ran out, reluctantly laundered them, and wore them all over again.

Bloodhound acted boldly. Setting down their drink, they stood and moved behind him. They reached out to grab the elastic waistband of his briefs. They gave it a tug, and when the elastic snapped against his skin, he shot up.

“H-Hey! Wh-What the…Hound, wh-what’re you…?!”

“Where were these purchased? And when? I do not recognize them.”

Elliott panicked. If there was anything he had learned about Bloodhound and relationships, it was that the hunter could be a little possessive. The trickster knew Bloodhound would be displeased if the underwear had been a gift from a past fling or an item worn for a previous hook-up.

“Don’t worry! No one gave these to me. I threw all of those things out a long time ago!”

“You have still avoided the question.” They stepped closer, grey eyes unblinking as they searched his face. “Where and when were those acquired?”

He gulped. Quickly, he collected their empty plates and hurried to put them in the sink. “I-I don’t know! I don’t remember where I got ‘em. It was years ago...!”

Bloodhound followed him. “Guess.”

Folding his arms against his chest, he shrank, trying to avoid their icy stare. “I c-can’t!” his voice rose in pitch. “My memory isn’t _that_ good, Hound! Th-They’re red, s-so maybe it was a Christmas present?! Hell if I know!”

Bloodhound narrowed their eyes. “For something trivial, your behavior is suspect.”

Elliott chewed on his bottom lip. He sputtered out a few more nonsense, tongue-tied lies, each of which Bloodhound dismissed. The hunter continued to question him. Elliott tried to look away. Their stare was probing. He pushed his fingers through his dark curls and blew out a sigh. He caved. “Alright, alright! It’s another…stupid tradition, okay?!”

Bloodhound folded their arms. “You said there were none others.”

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “This one’s embarrassing.”

“Explain it to me, Elliott.”

He sighed again, falling back against the counter. “There’s this tradition. The ‘lucky underwear’ tradition. They say that the color of your underwear on New Year’s Eve can favor your luck in the New Year. Different colors mean different things – happiness, health, fortune…I started doing it as a kid. I still do it today.” He shrugged, chuckling nervously. “Silly, huh? I told you.”

Bloodhound’s expression softened into something a little playful. Quietly, the hunter chuckled and took a couple of steps forward, closing the distance between them. Their hands came to rest against his side and shoulder. _“Hálfviti._ Why are you ashamed? I like it.”

A bit surprised, Elliott slowly placed his hands against their frame. “R-Really?”

“Yes. It is endearing.”

His palm massaged their lower back. His other caressed the soft skin of their cheek. Wisps of hair had slipped loose from their braid and he lovingly tucked them behind their ear. “I thought you’d think it was childish.”

“A little. But, it is good to be young at heart.”

He smiled and made a face. “So…you’re not mad?”

Bloodhound tilted their head into his touch. “No, I am not.” They paused, pale grey gazing tenderly over his face. “You say the different colors have different meanings?”

“Mmhm,” Elliot hummed dreamily. Staring into their eyes had sent him in a daze. It always did. “Why?”

“What does red signify?”

His eyes darted. “Uh…” His face flushed. “…romance and, uh, passion.”

Their eyes flickered. Romance. Passion. Now, Elliott’s desires were clear. Much to his benefit, the hunter desired the same for the near and distant future, especially after they had been so wonderfully pampered, wined, and dined. Elliott had made quite the effort to prepare a special evening for them. From day one, he had been surprisingly chivalrous, kindhearted, and affectionate towards them. Bloodhound was not someone who easily trusted, but Elliott had quickly grabbed hold of their heart. They surely hoped the Allfather would bless them with a future that included him at their side. 

Their fingers moved from his shoulder to his jaw, soft fingertips caressing the rough hair of his beard. “I see,” they murmured. “It appears our hopes are the same.”

The purr of their voice sent a shiver through his blood. His smile was soft and crooked. “Yeah?”

Bloodhound mirrored his smile. Leaning forward, their eyes closed as their lips met. Beneath them, Elliott slowly relaxed. He had been so embarrassed to share the tradition with them. Normally, he was overconfident and assure of himself. Seeing him timid was oddly endearing to the hunter. In truth, they quite liked all of the traditions their lover had introduced to them. The lucky underwear, to their own surprise, was their favorite. Though it was a bit bizarre, the hunter could only imagine how incredible the man probably looked in nothing but tight, red briefs.

The hand on his hip slid against his abdomen. Bloodhound moaned into the kiss, their fingernails leaving faint scratch marks against his tight stomach. From there, their touch eased lower, snaking between his sweatpants and underwear. They palmed his stiffening cock from against his briefs, smiling against his lips as their hand moved against his length. Elliott groaned deeply, lifting his hips in a wordless beckoning for more. Gladly, the hunter obliged, slipping their hand into his underwear to wrap their fingers around his bare shaft. He pulled back to draw in a breath through his teeth, half-lidded eyes looking hazily into the hunter’s own.

“Hound…” he breathed.

Bloodhound whimpered softly in protest, leaning in to quickly claim his mouth again. The kiss was deep and needy. His hands cradled their face while their fingers twisted and tugged in his dark hair. His mouth opened further to invite their tongue to explore deeper. It swiped over his teeth and the inside of his cheek, tasting him with moan after satisfied moan. Their own excitement did not go unnoticed as they grinded their hips against his leg, their erection as stiff as his. He eased back again, but kept their foreheads pressed together, his breath hot and heavy against their mouth.

“ _F-Fuck_ ,” he groaned deeply. “You’re driving me crazy. Careful, babe. I could give it to you right here against this counter.” 

Sweetly, Bloodhound smiled kissed the tip of his nose. “Let us instead return to the living room.”


	2. Underwear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! 
> 
> Enjoy the second and final chapter of this cute, short-and-sweet Miragehound fic.
> 
> Please enjoy, kudos, and comment. <3

While moving from the kitchen to the living room, clothes were shed. Bloodhound had ditched their top in the hallway when Elliott insisted on one more makeout session. He had pinned them against the wall with their hands over their head, their beautiful face twisted softly with pleasure as he peppered their neck with kisses and nibbles. Bloodhound adored it when he left a mark. It excited them to retreat to the bathroom after an evening with Elliott to find their skin bruised and blistered. The pain, additionally, excited them as much as pleasure did, and Elliott loved to hear them cry out and whine when they insisted he not hold back.

Elliott had lost both his top and his sweatpants. The hunter asked for him remain only in the red briefs. Now, as they took a seat on the couch, they beckoned him to stand before them and model. Elliott could not shake the blush that spread across his cheeks as he showed himself off to them. He arched his back, emphasizing the curves of his tight ass. Facing them, he used both hands to tug the underwear down ever so slightly, his hardened cock bulging beneath the clinging underwear. He wiggled his eyebrows and flashed a flirtatious smile. Bloodhound mirrored him softly, their pale grey eyes slowly taking in every inch of his chiseled frame, each contour of muscle that rippled under tanned skin.

“You like what you see?” Elliott smirked.

The hunter nodded. “Yes.” Their hand slid against the cushion and patted lightly. “Please. Come. Lie down.”

Elliott lied on his back across the couch. Bloodhound moved to straddle his lap. Elliott admired their lean torso, watching their muscles twitch and flex as their hands lifted to their hair. Gently, slender fingers pulled away the hair tie and worked to undo their braid. Crimson hair fell over their shoulders in a loose wave and framed the ethereal features of their face. Elliott swallowed hard, watching them through droopy eyes and thick eyelashes. Bloodhound shifted and brought their mouth to his lower abdomen. Their tongue moved slowly over full lips and sharp teeth. His cock twitched in anticipation.

“The color red complements you so beautifully, Elliott,” they said softly. They kissed him against his underwear, his erection straining against the fabric. From the base to the tip, they teased him. They wouldn’t free his cock of his underwear, no matter how much it pained him. Not just yet. “It would please me to see you in these more often. Would you do this for me?”

Elliott groaned, a stain of his own pre-cum slowly spreading across the front of his briefs. Bloodhound could have requested practically _anything_ from him at that moment and he would have done it. The beautiful, purring lilt of their voice was incredibly seducing. “An-Anything for you, babe. I’ll wear ‘em…as much as you want.”

Contented, Bloodhound hummed. While their mouth continued to tease his cock, their fingers traced over his muscled chest and abdomen. The hunter took pleasure in feeling him heave and writhe beneath their touch, wordlessly begging for the teasing to end. His fingers slid up the back of their neck and into their hair, tugging hard in another silent plea.

“Pl-Please,” he whispered.

“I have always adored your body, Elliott. Every part of it,” they continued, sinisterly ignoring his pleas. “You take great care of it, _elskan,_ and it shows.”

Elliott whined. Although he knew he had a body any man would rival, hearing Bloodhound say it made him wild. Their words rolled slowly off their tongue with a melodic ease, seduction rich in their accented voice. “Thanks, babe. I-I… _ahh_ ,” he finally mustered. The rest of his words were lost in a moan as fingers started to ease his underwear downward. The hunter paused shy of freeing his erection, moving full lips over sensitive skin and curls of dark hair. Their eyes admired the bulge pushing desperately from beneath the tight briefs. Their hand moved against him, his cock firm against their soft palm.

“H-Hound,” he drew out their name, leaning his head back. “God _damn_ , you’re killin’ me.”

“Oh?” their tone light with teasing. “Shall I stop?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “N-No. You know what I want.” 

Their fingers lifted the elastic waistband of his briefs and watched it snap back against his skin. The trickster shuddered and let out a startled cry. Flicking their eyes to his face, they smiled. “Tell me, Elliott. You are not shy.”

Elliott did not answer immediately. They were right – he wasn’t shy. With his mind a blur of desperate ecstasy, however, he struggled to focus on more than how badly his cock ached. The hunter soon lifted the waistband and snapped it against his skin again. He swallowed audibly, looking needily into their grey eyes. “I want my cock in your mouth, Hound. So fuckin’ bad.”

Satisfied, the hunter licked their lips. They freed his cock from its confines, watching as it sprung against his stomach. Supposing his anguish had been enough, they leaned forward to press a kiss against the swollen, drooling head of his cock. Strings of pre-cum dangled loosely between their bottom lip and his cock as they pulled back. They were quick to lap it up and savor his taste, as well as the dribbles of pre-cum that remained at the tip. Bowing their head again, their tongue dragged against the area where his cock met his balls. They licked the sensitive area at a torturously delicate pace. Elliott curled his toes, watching the beautiful hunter moan between his legs, their parted lips bringing hot air over his cock.

“O-Ohh, fuck…Mmnh…”

He threaded his fingers in long locks of dark hair, scratching his nails against their scalp. They slickened every inch of his cock with their saliva before wrapping their fingers around him, stroking him at a slow and lazy pace to keep him worked up. The fingers twisting in their hair and digging into his scalp told them Elliott felt _good_. The groans he released were nearly pained, his yearning for more causing his hips to buck toward their touch. Bloodhound was not swayed, instead maintaining their easy pumps against his cock.

“ _Elskan…”_

“Hound… _Please_ , Hound.”

Their hand paused its pumping. Their lips returned to the head of his cock. Slowly, they took him into their mouth. A warm, wet heat engulfed his erection. Bloodhound granted him little time to catch his breath before the entirety of his length eased down their throat. The hunter was gifted with little to no gag reflex, allowing themselves to take him with relative ease. With a free hand, Elliott scrambled for a pillow. He buried his face into it, groaning through gritted teeth.

“A-Ah…sh- _shit_ …!”

Bloodhound looked up at him as they started to work his erection with their mouth and hand. With every bob of their head, they swallowed as much of him as they could muster. Their fingertips massaged his balls, occasionally slipping downward to press against and circle his hole. Elliott arched, his body becoming riddled with pleasure. Moaning around his cock, their pace quickened. He managed to look down at them. It was a vulgar sight he would never grow tired of – their cheeks reddened, their lips stretched around his cock, their eyes focused and hungry. The handsome trickster writhed and panted, desperately thrusting his hips in time with their sucking to push his cock even deeper into their throat. He bottomed out and their throat swallowed around him, causing his knees to buckle and twitch.

“A-Ahh…! Fuck…fuck, Hound…!”

The taste of pre-cum grew stronger. The hunter had eased a hand beneath themselves to palm and stroke their own erection. Pre-cum drooled and dripped, coating their fingers. Even consumed by pleasure, Elliott was striking. His tanned skin glistened with sweat. His dark-hazel eyes were hazy and helpless. His bottom lip had been thoroughly chewed on, worn from his attempts to stifle noisy moans. His dark hair was tossed and unkempt, splayed across and matted against his forehead.

Before he could reach his climax, Elliott withdrew. He would have loved to watch Bloodhound swallow every drop of his cum, but he wanted more. His fingers slipped from their hair, gently swiping stray strands from their forehead.

“I need you on top of me,” he panted. He started to slide his red briefs over his legs, though Bloodhound reached out to stop him.

“Please,” they urged softly. “Will you keep these on?”

Elliott smiled a little and nodded once. He kept the briefs on, but snaked his cock through the front opening. “You’re not kidding. You really do like these on me, huh?”

“I do. Very much.”

He watched as they removed the rest of their clothing and slipped onto his lap, their knees straddling either side of his waist. Their frame was lean and light on top of him, but sculpted with muscle and strength. In the soft candlelight, their snowy skin appeared warm, soft, and smooth. Like him, they were aroused. Their erection brushed against his own as they shifted to grow more comfortable, rosy cheeks growing increasingly flushed by the contact. It was then Elliott realized he had been holding his breath, taken aback by their striking beauty.

Bloodhound lifted their fingers to their mouth. They suckled on their fingertips, hazy grey eyes watching Elliott with absolute longing. Dark hair fell gracefully over one shoulder as they glanced downward, lifting themselves up on their knees to slip a finger against their entrance. Slowly, they inserted one finger inside of their hole. A soft breath hitched in their throat as they leaned their head back, arching into the touch.

“A-Ah…mmm,” their moans were quiet.

Elliott did not tear his eyes from them for a second. He set his hands on their hips to steady them as he sat upright, planting kisses beside their hammering heart. The moans that resonated within their chest felt pleasing against his mouth. He took his time dragging his tongue up to their nipple, toying with the delicate bud between his teeth. The hunter shuddered. Elliott squeezed them tighter, purposefully pressing his nails into their sides. He knew Bloodhound always enjoyed a touch of pain to complement the pleasure. Later, he would take his time admiring the crescent-shaped marks his nails would leave on their sides and the reddened hickeys his teeth would mark on their neck.

“More,” the hunter begged, compelling the trickster to nibble harder and squeeze tighter.

A second finger joined the first in their entrance, effectively stretching their hole further. Bloodhound whined and glanced down at him. Elliott met their eyes with a sincerity that could have melted their heart. The trickster was not always self-centered. With him, Bloodhound felt as though they were the center of his universe.

“Think you can give me one more, babe?” he purred.

With a coy nod, Bloodhound slipped a third finger into their hole. Their knees slackened, allowing their weight to sink further onto the slickened digits. Elliott’s eyes remained transfixed on his panting lover, watching them work themselves up and down in his lap. Bloodhound had learned from previous evenings with Elliott that taking him required thorough preparation. As if being blessed with an awesome body and handsome smile was not enough, he was also more than well-endowed.

Elliott kissed their shoulder softly. “You’re so good, Hound. You ready for me?”

“Yes,” they breathed.

They started to lower themselves. The head of his erection began to breach them, stretching them further than their fingers could have. Their hole, loosened and slickened, slowly adjusted to his size. To relax them, Elliott placed delicate kisses against their collarbones, his lips whispering words of love and adoration. The husky sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his beard against their skin sent shivers throughout their body. They whined quietly and bowed their head, strands of their hair resting across reddened cheeks. Soon, his entire length was inside of them. The hunter felt full, their muscles clenching around his cock. Elliott shuddered almost immediately.

“ _F-Fuck_ ,” he gasped. “I swear, you feel more and more amazing every time.”

“A-Ahh…l-likewise, _elskan_.”

With their hands against him, they started to move in his lap. Up and down, the hunter moved against his erection, their hips angled to guide the thick head of his cock deeper. Elliott followed along with their movements, lifting his own hips in time with them to thrust continuously against their sweet spot. Elliott had to hear that noise again. He quickened, thrusting harder and quicker. Bloodhound arched and cried out, their face furrowing as pleasure shook their frame. 

“A-Ahh…! Oh, Elliott! Elliott!”

Keeping one hand against their side, Elliott wrapped the fingers of his other hand around their cock. Their length was considerably slickened by their own pre-cum, allowing his hand to glide against them with ease. Bloodhound turned their face to him and peered deep into his dark eyes. Elliott leaned in to kiss them. Their mouth moved hungrily against his own. Bloodhound pushed their hands into his hair, effectively cradling either side of his head, their slender fingers twisting in soft curls. They continued to rock in his lap, shaky, quickened breaths and helpless, pleasured moans escaping them. It felt to them as if Elliott filled every inch of their stretched hole. The constant spearing against their sweet spot was electrifying, shooting pained pleasure through every nerve, every vein, and every inch of their body.

Elliott smiled into the kiss and nibbled on their lower lip. He pressed their foreheads together, glancing adoringly over their face. The hunter, overwhelmed, could barely look back at him.

“You like that, babe? Huh? You like it when I fuck you like this?”

Bloodhound tried to nod, mustering only a soft whine.

His mouth brushed over their cheek and settled against their ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. They shivered, the hand pumping their cock giving a squeeze. Bloodhound could not keep quiet. As each moment passed, they unraveled further before his eyes. One would hardly believe the whimpering, panting hunter rocking in the trickster’s lap was the same vicious Bloodhound feared in the Ring. There was something about Elliott. With him, they came undone. With him, they were the most beautiful creature in the Outlands. He knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to hold them, and how to love them.

They swallowed hard, gasping. “E-Eli…E-Elliott…Please, I-I’m….ah, E-Elliott!”

He recognized their cue. They were growing close to their climax, much like himself. Their cock drooled even more pre-cum over his hand. He smeared it with his fingers, using it as lubricant to pump them faster. Bloodhound responded with a needy whimper. Their hips rocked quicker in his lap, and when Elliott lifted his hips more to reach deeper, the hunter cried louder. Their eyelids fluttered, grey irises rolling back as their head fell back. Riddled with pleasure, their lips could barely form words. Elliott listened as broken words of their native language escaped them in quivering breaths. He heard them moan his name in a shuddering sob. Their hips rocked and bucked desperately. They were close. _So_ close.

His hand came to rest against the side of their face, his calloused thumb caressing the soft skin of their cheek. “Cum for me, Hound,” he groaned in their ear. “C’mon. Cum for me.”

His words sent them over the edge. With a broken cry, Bloodhound arched and pressed flush against him. Their cock twitched in his hand, sputtering thick streams of their release over his fingers and their stomach. His arm was strong around their quaking frame, holding them in place as his cock shot cum deep inside of them. Elliott groaned beside their ear, his breath caught in his throat as the hunter clenched around him. Their hips continued to rock against his cock, riding him as their orgasms slowly subsided. Eventually, they grew still. Their arms slipped around his neck, their face nestled beneath his jaw. Their breaths were quick and uneven against his skin. Their heart raced beside his own. He ran his fingers lovingly through their hair, pressing soft kisses against their face to quiet their whimpers.

“Hound,” he whispered shakily, trying to catch his breath. His other hand rubbed their back, his fingers lightly drumming up and down their spine. “F-Fuck…You good?”

They gave a small nod. “Yes. More than ‘good,’ Elliott. I nearly feel faint.”

Dark eyes rounded with concern. “Shit. Did I go too hard on you? I-I’m sorry. It’s just…you felt amazing. N-Not like that should justific – justif – _justify_ anything, b-but – “

They laughed. Elliott blinked, pulling back enough to see a smile spread wide on their face. It wasn’t a common sight. It warmed him. “Rest assured, _elskan._ I am well. You simply – how do you say it – ‘gave it to me good?’”

Elliott laughed and gave their nose an affectionate poke. “What’d I tell you? Freakin’ _adorable_.”

He reclined against the couch and closed his eyes. Bloodhound started to settle comfortably against his chest, melting beneath the gentle fingers in their hair and on their back. Elliott cherished quiet moments like this. Their days were often packed with commotion surrounding the Games – training, participating, recovering, networking. It was a tireless cycle, and while he personally loved the attention, Bloodhound grounded him.

Glancing adoringly at the hunter, his dark eyes smiled. Their eyes had closed, their lips parted just slightly as fatigue started to slowly lull them to sleep. He let out a quiet yawn, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes, too. Carefully, he reached for the remote. He started to lower the volume until an announcer on the television enthusiastically broadcasted, “Only three minutes remaining until the dawn of the New Year!”

_Oh, shit._

He blinked rapidly and quickly slipped from underneath Bloodhound. The hunter collapsed gently onto the couch cushions with a small groan. Their brow furrowed, sleepy eyes narrowing at the trickster who clumsily adjusted himself back into his briefs.

“Elliott,” they snapped. “Have you gone mad?”

“Three minutes! We only have _three minutes_!” he called out as he ran into the kitchen. Bloodhound sat up slowly to wipe the fatigue from their eyes. They listened as he frantically searched for their half-finished glasses of champagne. He soon returned with the glasses in either hand, tripping over the clothes they had tossed on the floor. “We almost missed it! We _have_ to cheers when the clock strikes midnight!”

Bloodhound accepted the glass. “Another tradition,” they noted softly.

They reached for a blanket draped over the arm of the couch and wrapped up in it. Elliott joined them, his eyes fixed on the screen. With less than sixty seconds remaining, he turned to them. “I wouldn’t want to ring in the New Year with anyone else. I mean it. You mean so much to me.”

They started to respond, but the announcers’ countdown cut them short. Though they had watched the New Year’s Eve Celebration at least once before, it felt special with Elliott. They both watched with awe as the Outlands’ time ball slowly descended. Lights reflected off its surface. The music was fast and triumphant. Surrounding crowds shouted and applauded with anticipation.

Elliott slid an arm around their waist and squeezed. “This is it…!” he whispered.

_“Five, four, three, two, one…!”_

“Happy New Year!” he cheered, clinking their glasses together.

“Happy New Year,” they echoed with a small smile.

He downed the rest of his champagne in one swig. Bloodhound sipped theirs gingerly and lightly set down their glass. They turned to face him, taking both of his hands into their own. Elliott blinked, noting the look in their beautiful, pale grey eyes – a little serious, but adoring and a bit coy.

“Hound?”

Bloodhound leaned in to kiss him. Elliott relaxed and nearly protested when they eased back. “Thank you for this evening,” their voice was low. “I enjoyed everything.”

He blushed lightly, waving a hand nonchalantly. “It’s nothing, babe! We should do this more often. I mean, I guess we really can’t with New Year’s Eve being once a year and everything, but, uh…I’ll cook for you more often! What do you say? Next week? Pork chops again or – “

Bloodhound silenced him with another kiss. Their hands squeezed his. The hunter felt their heart swell. For once, everything felt right. They felt complete.

“I love you, Elliott,” they murmured into the kiss.

Keeping their lips pressed together, Elliott opened his eyes and they grew wide. _I love you_ , they had said, and it sounded beautiful. His heart fluttered. Their face, so close to his own, had grown almost as crimson as their hair. His lids drooped and he smiled against them, running his thumbs affectionately against the backs of their palms.

“I love you, too, Hound.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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